Right Here Waiting
by BlackLadyCharon
Summary: Vergil X OC. Sometimes, grief can only be handled by pain... deathfic


Author's Notes: This is a short fic I've been debating doing for a while, tying in with a fic series I haven't put up yet. This is kinda VergilXOC, also sad because it's supposed to be later in the series. Will probably type up the first part tomorrow, though it may not be posted for several days. Deathfic, and kind of irrational survivor's guilt.

Disclaimer: I don't own capcom, nor DMC. I only own Amaranth, the OC.

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Right Here Waiting 

By: BlackLadyCharon

"Verge? Verge, are you alright in there?" Dante called warily through the door. There wasn't any answer, there hadn't been for a solid month. If Vergil came out, it was when Dante was sleeping. If he ate, it was stuff Dante wouldn't miss. The door was locked, and spelled against demonic strength as well. Vergil had locked himself in the room. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his grief. It had been that way for that whole month, since Amaranth had died. Dante could understand how Vergil felt. To lose first their human mother, and then his human wife… it had to be tearing the half demon apart. And that was dangerous. One never knew what Vergil would do when his human emotions broke through the icy shell of demonic control he usually suppressed them under. One time had permitted Amaranth her freedom. The second had saved both Dante and Amaranth's lives from Mundus, and freed Vergil. Date started banging on the door, determined that this time, he wasn't leaving until he got some kind of response.

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Hi brother was pounding on the door, yelling. This had happened before, would probably happen again. It made no difference to the man who sat on the floor in the darkest corner of the room. He looked exhausted, ragged, a far cry from the usual immaculate perfection he radiated. His eyes were bloodshot, reddened from shedding more tears then he had ever shed in his life. Even his mother's death had not produced that many. Devil's never cried, and the trails from tears proved what his wife had told him. No matter what he said or did, there was too much human in him for him to ever fully become a devil. Too much love, too much life. And now her life was gone, a candle blown out far too soon.

flashback

"Well, I think I'm getting too good at this, Baby Doll, when I'm starting to consider three Vanguards boring." A bright smile flashed at him as Amaranth called up the street at him, waving her Grenade Gun cheerfully. Tiny, petite, with hair the color of dark rubies and eyes so pale a brown they were almost yellow, his wife's personality seemed far to large to be contained in that fragile, human body. An S Rank Hunter who looked like a walking china doll. It was almost hilarious. Even more so, that she would call a six foot one, white haired half devil that most of the Hunter's considered anathema after the Mallet Island and Nero Angelo incidents Baby Doll. Still, Vergil smiled at her, unaware of what would happen next.

_The spray of blood seemed unreal, as did the slow widening of his wife's eyes in shock. She reached out her empty hand to him, almost pleadingly, while he stared in shock at the blade that had pierced her chest. A Doppelganger, one that had been in hiding while they fought the Vanguards, while they depleted the resurrection spells they had on the innocent victims. One that had taken on his shape and shoved a shadow version of Yamato through his wife, now laughing at them both. He barely noticed his movements as the Doppelganger had a very final, very fatal encounter with the real Yamato. Heedless of her blood staining his coat, Vergil scooped Amaranth up and started back for the shop they shared with Dante. This couldn't happen; his wife could not die on him after only two years together. Her choked breathing hitched with pain, then she reached up, laying a bloody hand to his face._

"_Vergil… I'm… sorry… that in the end… I was only… human…" She'd been dead too long by the time he reached the shop. No amount of gold or yellow orbs would bring her back to him. And he'd sat on the floor, rocking her body and howling his grief, breaking down as he had not even when Eva had died. His wife was gone, and with her, his heart._

End flashback

Tears continued to slide down his face, renewed by reliving the memory. Vergil looked down, touching a small bag he'd had woven shortly before he'd locked himself in this room. Their room, the room he'd shared with his wife. The bag was woven from her hair, and contained an almost staggering amount of gold orbs, along with a few other items, most of them remembrances of Amaranth. It had cost him a small fortune to fill the bag, but then, he had a large fortune in the first place. One of the benefits of Daddy's legacy, plenty of money and red orbs to burn. Vergil looked about the room, nodding slowly to himself. He couldn't stay here any longer. Once he'd asked his wife to live for him, since he wouldn't live for himself at that time. Now it was time he lived for her, though he had one last thing to do.

He stood slowly, unsteadily, unused to moving after having crammed himself into a small corner for the better part of a month. The table next to the bed held four things. A picture of Amaranth, a green orb, a length of black cloth, and a small, sharp knife. Vergil picked up the picture, studying it, memorizing the features, the smile, the way sunlight had struck that unnaturally red hair, then closed his eyes, picking up the knife and bracing himself. Several inhumanly quick slashes left the upper half of his face a blood smeared wreak, and redoubled the pounding and shouting from the door. Dante probably thought he was slitting his throat or wrists. The last things Vergil picked up where the orb and the cloth. The orb sealed the cuts, but didn't restore the damaged tissue as it normally would, because Vergil had tampered carefully with its magical workings first. The cloth he wrapped around where his eyes had been, tying it off. The last sight he'd ever wanted to see had been his wife, and this was his way of assuring that it was so.

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Dante was about ready to start breaking the walls down to make sure Vergil hadn't killed himself when he heard the lock click. The door swung open, and Dante felt his eyes widen at the cloth that covered where Vergil's eyes had been. Talk about a dramatic case of survivor's guilt, Vergil giving up his sight like that. Dante knew better then to ask, though. Vergil was his brother, his twin, and Dante knew that this was the only way Vergil could express his grief without killing someone. To harm himself, to blind himself to everything and everyone around him, to shut out the light that brought him even more pain. It wouldn't affect Vergil's fighting skills either, since Vergil spent plenty of time training and fighting blindfolded.

"I can't stay here, Dante. There are too many memories here, and I can't live with them all." He was gone before Dante could say anything, teleporting somewhere his brother couldn't or wouldn't follow.

Fin

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Vergil: Lord, why is it always me?

Dante: Perils of being the fave, man.


End file.
